


Sunday Morning

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you doing, Rogers?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning

The movie credits started to roll, and Steve inhaled deeply to brush off the relaxed feeling that had overcome his body. Wanda and himself had started to make their way through Steve's ever-growing list of must-see movies, and they had just finished The Breakfast Club. Admittedly, not his most favourable - he felt that, though John Hughes' movies were good, the plot could sometimes slip away from him - and Steve was happy to lay on the couch as the song finally came to an end, his hands brushing through Wanda's hair, who had fallen asleep about twenty minutes earlier.

It had been two years, since Ultron. Two years of nightmares and stilled silences and no one really knowing what to do with the mysterious new member of the team, but they had worked it out. Often Wanda could be found now hassling Pepper on the information of what Stark Industries does now, or training with anyone who was free on the gym floor, or with Steve. Which Steve enjoyed, a lot.

Steve looked down on her sleeping form, amazed at how small she looked, curled into his chest, one hand under her head and the other resting on his bicep, their feet tangled under the blanket Natasha had thrown over them when they had first sat down, and still not changed out of her pyjamas. Steve smiled down at her, his fingers still lightly pulling at her hair, and tightened his arms around her waist.

"What are you doing, Rogers?" Wanda asked, her voice thick with sleep, and Steve pulled her so she was leaning fully on his chest, his back on the couch and bare feet kicking over the arm rest.

"The movie's finished." He told her, pushing her hair off her face as she leant her elbows on his chest to look down at him, and she smiled softly at him, bringing her hand up to his cheek and stroking her thumb slowly over his cupids bow.

"What did you think?" She asked, as Steve held his hand on her lower back, and Steve shrugged.

"It was... Good. I think I liked it." He told her, and Wanda laughed softly as she bent down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Steve loved these moments, when it was just the two of them, being as close as they could be and being able to do what they wanted, knowing that they were safe and no issues were going to ruin the moment. Wanda moved her head down to begin kissing his neck. Her lips were soft and the kisses were chaste, but it made Steve hum happily anyways, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her tighter into him, the other one coming to link his fingers with hers. Wanda gripped onto him, pulling her head up to continue kissing him - his cheeks, forehead, eyelids, mouth - and Steve groaned as she rolled her hips over him, his hand clenching onto her shirt as he opened his eyes to look up at her.

"You're awful to me." He whined, and Wanda laughed at him, a light and musical sound to his ears, as she brought her hand up to Steve's mouth for him to kiss her knuckles. That was intimate, for the two of them. Something so simple, and something that could be seen as so small and innocent. It meant safety, for the two of them. It meant coming home from a battle, and having someone to wrap you up in gauze and lay with you in bed during the hours you didn't want to get up.

Steve was scared, he supposed, as Wanda sat up fully and looked out of the lounge windows, stuck in her own world and Steve traced patterns on her thigh and squeezed her hand every few seconds, realising that perhaps, maybe the feelings he held for her were something he shouldn't. He remembered Natasha, once, when they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, the both of them injured and alone and looking as if there was no way out.

"Everyone I love... Loved... There is not much space in this line of business for them, Steve." Natasha had told him, her voice weak in the dark of the underground cell they had been locked in, and Steve had remembered nodding, and tasting nothing but his own blood on his tongue, unsure of how to reply. Because he knew that truth. How many people had Natasha lost? How many people had he lost? How many people would they lose, come the time where they hung up their outfits and looked back on themselves? It was Wanda and Sam who had found them, then, Bucky not far behind, and Steve had been afraid to cling to anyone, Natasha's words cutting deeper than he would have liked to admit.

"Steve?" Wanda asked, in real time, her face looking confused and concerned and both of her hands on his cheeks, and he smiled sheepishly up at her.

"Sorry." He told her, and she raised her eyebrow at him.

"You do not have to apologise. You just looked distant, I suppose I hoped you were not thinking of bad things." Wanda told him, and Steve nodded, the aura of the room changing from calm to pensieve, and Steve sat up slowly, Wanda still in his lap, and rested her forehead on his.

"Do you ever... Get second thought? About this?" He asked her, voice quiet in their close proximity, and Wanda looked down at her hands, resting on his forearms.

"You mean, of us?" She asked, and Steve nodded against her forehead.

"It is... It was scary. I don't... I cannot explain it. You mean a lot to me, in fact, probably the closest I feel to someone since Pietro and... I cannot explain it." She told him, looking into his eyes, and Steve nodded.

"Me neither."

"I want to be with you. Now. And probably in the future, as long as you don't do anything or I don't do anything that changes those circumstances." Wanda told him, and Steve sat with her then, mulling it over.

There was nothing he could say, then. All that had to be said, in that moment, had been said. So instead he brought one hand to her jaw and dipped his head down, and kissed her slowly, Wanda's arms wrapping around his shoulders, and and to the conclusion that: yes Natasha was right. But he was happy where he was, and he could live with that for now.

**Author's Note:**

> was supposed to be based off the prompt "things you said when you thought i was asleep" but..........hope this is okay instead?


End file.
